Hand
by Kid Dynamite 090
Summary: Pendergast and Helen share an intimate moment after her safe return. LEMON.


The sticky southern heat hung in the air under the night sky and amongst the chirping crickets down in Louisiana.  
The inside of the Penumbra mansion was illuminated by low lights and a roaring fire in the entertaining room. The curtains on the large windows were pulled partly shut; enough to ward off outside eyes but allowing some of the night to enter the room. Sitting on a large, old leather sofa was a woman with deep red hair, cut about shoulder length. Her face was tired and, even at comfortable ease, somewhat defeated. Not too old a woman, a few wrinkles and lines in her face frayed her complete beauty. Her dominant hand was holding a hot cup of tea, while the wrist where her opposite hand formerly connected to rested on her lap, partially covered by a long, rather flowing sleeve.

Peering around the room, Helen was appreciating her surroundings. She tried to remember the last time she had been at the Pendergast estate.  
"Too long ago, Helen," said Aloysius, as if reading her thoughts.  
He appeared from the doorway that lead opened to the main atrium. He was well dressed and collected in appearance, yet his posture was slightly slouched and his aloof aura was a lessened. He presented himself as human.  
Helen managed a weak smile and motioned for her husband to sit next to her. Pendergast walked carefully and made sure his steps were fluid and nonaggressive.

"How are you feeling?" Pendergast asked.  
Helen brought the cup to her lips. Her calm smile spread across the rim of the white ceramic. She sipped slowly and quietly, and once the cup rested safely on her lap she replied simply, "Much better now."  
Helen looked at her husband. His eyes were bright yet the woman could see his weakness. She smiled at him, a small but genuine smile. For years this was a moment that she dared only to dream of.  
Boldness took her over. The redhead placed her cup on a nearby end table and with her now free hand drew her palm from her husband's chin up to his ear. His flawless, almost translucent skin felt smooth and freshly shaven. Aloysius took a deep breath and placed his hand on hers. With a bit of force he pressed his fingertips between the spaces in his wife's fingers.  
"I've missed you so much."  
Helen didn't bother to respond. She knew nothing that she could say would accurately communicate how she felt the long, long time the two were separated.  
Slowly, Pendergast brought his face down and pressed his thin lips to Helen's. It was brief, barely touching, before he brought himself a few centimeters back.  
"Aloysius," Helen said quietly, "It's very late."  
"Indeed it is, my dear."  
Helen drew herself up from the sofa, sure to glide her hand down Pendergast's cheek and off the bottom of his chin in an intimate motion.  
Mrs. Pendergast held her bare wrist with her hand and made her way out of the room and up the stairs. Pendergast could hear her steps well until she went off onto the second floor.

"Helen..."  
Aloysius uncharacteristically ran a hand through his hair.

The flames in the fireplace danced and crackled without a care in the world. Orange like desert dirt. Yellow like a Saharan sun. Red like fur on a lion. Red like Helen's own mane. For a small amount of time Pendergast just watched the flames perform their exhibition. Bravely and without any attachments they sprang off the log on the floor of the fireplace. Before his silvery eyes the flames leaped off their wooden springboard as powerful color and evolve into a new airborne creation. Through the chimney and over the mansions roof was the outcome: smoke. Smoke; so easily displaced.  
Pendergast finally extinguished the flames and shut off the lights in the room. He made the same pillage Helen did into the atrium and up the stairs. From stepping off his staircase the agent directed himself to his master bedroom. After two careful knocks on the bedroom door he entered.

"Helen?" the house master called into the room.  
The woman of the house was lying on the bed, head resting comfortably on a pillow. Her long skirt was diagonally pulled up to around her knees from her positioning herself. The only thing that was purposely adjusted was her sleeve that still covered her amputation.

"Is the room to your liking?" Aloysius asked from the doorway.

"It's exactly as I remember it," replied Helen with a soft smile.  
Pendergast tried to smile, but his effort was in vain. He made his way over to the bed, standing on the opposite side of where his wife lay.  
"Aloysius," said Helen, turning her head toward her husband, "What troubles you?"  
"This is just all so foreign."  
"I know it is. Believe me. But here I am. Here _we _are."  
Pendergast nodded at Helen. Without any prompting the FBI agent removed his jacket and tie. Stepping out of character he dropped both items onto the floor. While the woman he loved was safe and secure in his own bed, he couldn't bring himself to step away from her.  
Sitting on the bed, Pendergast removed his shoes and socks, also allowing them to settle on the floorboards.  
"Come closer to me," whispered Helen.  
Pendergast obeyed Helen and shifted himself closer. Like a teenager at the cinema he slung his arm behind Helen's neck and allowed her to cuddle close. Taking advantage of her position the redhead pushed her face closer to Pendergast's and kissed him. Unlike his soft kiss before, she kept her lips pressed to his a bit longer.

Eyes silvery and part-way open Pendergast ran his fingers through Helen's hair which splayed against the pillow anew.  
Helen ended their kiss but in the final whispered, "I've missed you so much, Agent Pendergast."  
"As I have missed you... Mrs. Pendergast."  
The final words melted off Pendergast's tongue. His accent thickly coated his speech as he continued to say, "You're finally mine once more."  
Helen scrunched herself as close as she could to Pendergast. In turn, he held her hand, fingers laced.  
"Aloysius," Helen looked up into Pendergast's eyes, "Touch me."  
Obediently, the blonde man took his free hand and traced the side of his wife's most covered arm. From her shoulder down to her knee, to her forearm his palm went; just above her wrist he stopped.  
"Go ahead."  
With some hesitation Pendergast continued drawing his hand lower and moved her sleeve up. The stump of her arm was present, a fading scar holding the flesh shut tightly. Pendergast rubbed the end of her limb with his thumb, becoming less anxious.  
"I'm still Helen. I promise," said Helen as solidly as she could.  
"I know you are. This is just so hard for me to see let alone believe."  
Helen unclasped their hands and brought her own underneath Pendergast's white shirt. Slowly, she brought her hand up the agent's toned muscles, taking the shirt up with her. Pendergast's impossibly fair skin peaked from under the fabric and the couple could see his chest rise and fall with his breaths.  
"Helen-"  
"Please don't stop me," Helen said to her husband. Her eyes were begging.

"I just don't want you to feel obligated or rush into something."  
"I want to feel my husband."  
Pendergast couldn't argue, even as Helen began to unbutton his shirt. With each button undone the woman opened the shirt and eventually removed it completely.  
Bare-chested and slowly warming to Helen's action, Aloysius sat himself up and again kissed the redheaded woman. His kisses were deeper and longer, not as gentle. As his lips pressed hers he carefully pushed Helen's skirt down.

When her skirt was down to her knees she took the liberty to remove it completely. The redhead helped Pendergast remove his belt and free himself of his trousers. Helen could see the fresh bulge push against Pendergast's underwear.  
"Excited?" asked Helen rather cheekily.  
"Only for you, my dear."  
Before Aloysius' eyes Helen pulled her shirt above her head to remove it. Under normal circumstances Pendergast would be ashamed of the boyish manner he acted in once he saw his partner's full breasts. He, with some forced restrain to all eagerness, brought his two hands behind Helen's back and unclipped her bra. The supportive garment fell down onto the bed.  
"An established FBI agent shouldn't be afraid," said Helen with a sly smile.

"An established FBI agent should be cautious," Pendergast replied with a matching grin.  
"Since when does Aloysius Pendergast stutter?"  
"When the target is so mysterious, how can one be too careful?"  
Helen's sly smile grew to a full one that spread across her face. Her eyes were at ease and without a second thought she pulled her panties down and saucily kicked them off the top of her foot.  
As Pendergast rubbed up Helen's thigh, she confessed, "I just want to feel close to you."  
"Then there's no time to waste."  
For a moment Pendergast removed his hands and turned away to face the other end table aside the bed. He opened the drawer and removed a bottle of lubricant. Nonchalantly he coated his fingers. Smoothly, he brought the moist digits to Helen's lower lips; her legs having been spread.

Helen closed her eyes, feeling her husband's bony fingers enter her. As if not a day had gone by since their last intimate encounter Pendergast slid his fingers inside and out once more.  
The motions sent pleasure waves through Helen's lower body that radiated upward. Her heart rate increased and she closed her eyes. Pendergast smiled and with his other hand removed his underwear. Ever the mental observant, Pendergast continued to finger his wife while he added some lubricant to his hardening erection. After a few hard strokes he was ready. From Helen's reaction to his fingers, she was too.

He withdrew his fingers in a slow pull that made Helen slowly feel herself becoming emptier and emptier. Her cheeks flushed as Pendergast threw himself into position; his nose touching the tip of her own.  
Without a word he slowly lowered his hips and maneuvered his manhood into his wife. The fleshy tunnel was ready and his intrusion was painless. Helen drew her legs up and soon pulled them to around the blonde man's waist.  
Pendergast's movements were solid, yet gentle. He pushed himself forward and pulled himself back with a gentlemanly regard for the woman underneath him. Watching her every motion, Pendergast saw Helen's breasts be shaken by their movements and Helen's lips part to moan.

Helen ran her hands through Pendergast's poker straight hair and tugged lightly when she felt the agent especially deep inside.

"It's been so long," Helen moaned, head thrown back.  
"Much too long, my love," replied Pendergast smoothly.

Feeling surrounded by tight warmth the blonde man thrust inward and out. His body was pressed closely to Helen's and he could feel himself getting redder in the face. His plateau was nearing.

Trying to maximize his time, Pendergast did his best to satisfy Helen. He looked deeply into her eyes and kisses her lips. He ran his hand through her hair and then held her hand. Aloysius squeezed tightly and laced their fingers.  
The agent worked his hips and didn't stop until he felt himself unable to hold back. His seed was expelled from his body and entered Helen, filling her up.  
Once it was over Pendergast kissed Helen once more. Slipping his tongue inside her mouth he felt her moan. Pendergast was slow to pull himself out but once he began he still felt Helen holding him close. She wasn't letting go. Pendergast managed to lay himself slightly to Helen's right side. Half his body was on hers and she made it so her leg tangled with his. They were intertwined.  
"I never want to leave you ever again, Aloysius," Helen said as she tried to kiss him.  
"You'll never have to. I promise you that."


End file.
